


Snow

by Shaydor



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 12:15:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1225873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaydor/pseuds/Shaydor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haku and Zabuza will always love each other. AU/AR. One-shot</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Shounen-ai  
> Character death  
> Haku is underage, but there is no hard pron scene  
> (Not the smut or fluff that I usually write)

Zabuza has a strange feeling in his chest as he walks up the stairs that lead into the school where he works.

He feels like something important is going to happen, and yet, as though it already has. He feels almost uncomfortable in his own skin, but also feels as though that is about to change, like he is going to become new somehow.

At twenty-six years old, Zabuza is comfortable with his life, or at least he is pretty sure that he is. He has a steady job, he lives alone and doesn’t have any particular troubles. Yet he woke up this morning wishing that things were different, although he doesn’t know what could possibly be missing.

He brushes off all of these feelings as students start to fill the halls outside of his classroom. He looks down at the register for his first class, familiarising himself with the names of his new students. The one at the end catches his eye for some reason.

Yuki, Haku. Male. Fifteen years old.

Why? Why does that name sound so familiar and so foreign at the same time? Why does his skin tingle at the sight of this name among tens of other new ones? Why does it feel as though his blood has turned to ice?

The bell rings. Zabuza shakes his head and takes a sip of the coffee that stands on his desk. The kids will start filing into the classroom soon so he needs his head to be clear.

He stands up and plasters a smile on his face, nodding slightly as the first student walks into the classroom. She wears black clothing and has a bounce in her step. The second student wears colourful, girly clothing and carries her books tightly against her chest. The third wears torn jeans and has more facial hair than any fifteen-to-sixteen year old boy should have.

Zabuza’s smile becomes genuine as he remembers how much he loves his art students. They are always a varied and interesting bunch. The kid with crazy clothing who might spout poetry in the middle of a class, the few who sit at the back and might sometimes throw paint at each other at the end of a long day (although this sometimes has to end with detention, it always amuses Zabuza), the girls who has random piercings in her face, a boy with long, lustrous hair…

Zabuza stares as the eighth student enters the class.

Long, black hair flutters around the androgynous student’s shoulders gently and for a moment it seems as though time itself has slowed down. Eyes glance over towards Zabuza, dark but kind, and a small smile graces pale lips as the eyes look away, and the delicate features are hidden as the student turns away.

Zabuza’s breath is caught in his throat and he looks down at his desk, embarrassed to have been staring at one of his pupils.

Five minutes later, all of his new students have taken a seat and Zabuza feels like he is dreaming. Perhaps he is.

When he speaks, his voice sounds alien to him. Confident and friendly, even though he feels like he is a hundred miles away.

“I am mister Momoichi,” he says, “and I will be your art teacher for the year.” He sits down at his desk again. “I’m going to take register now, so please, when I call your name…” he trails off because the students know what to do.

He goes through all of the names with ease until the last one. His voice catches in his throat, and he has to try again.

“Haku Yuki?” he looks up and stares into deep brown eyes.

The boy raises his hand and doesn’t break eye contact.

Zabuza can hear his own heart beat and it seems as though he can see nothing but this young boy.

They’ve always loved each other.

Months pass. They see each other outside of school hours every day. Their student-teacher relationship seems ordinary. How do they do it? Everyone finds out, though, one day.

They run.

Images flash in Zabuza’s mind. Haku eating a stick of dango, then twisting breathlessly above him, then painting at school. Haku’s smile.

Zabuza cries as they fuck. Haku kisses his tears.

Zabuza doesn’t ask again if Haku is sure about this, because he knows he is.

Haku will follow Zabuza anywhere, although, in the end, it is always Zabuza who follows him.

Zabuza’s tears don’t stop as he cuts deeply into Haku’s wrists, again… and again. He hardly even feels it as Haku does the same to him. No pain can overcome the love he feels.

They tell each other that they love one another – that they always will. Over and over again, until the words can no longer come out because their bodies are giving up.

It’s better this way.

As always, Haku dies first. His eyes slip closed, a smile on his face.

Zabuza thinks it’s snowing. His cheek tingles and it’s all he can physically feel. Soft white blurs cloud his vision.

He strokes Haku’s cheek. It’s already cold.

He is so glad that Haku’s face is the last thing he sees.

Maybe next time, things will be different.


End file.
